Juxtaposition
by Crystal Volcheck
Summary: A collection of one-word prompts centered about the idea of hanahaki disease. Each chapter is a different one word prompt with various pairings (Skans, Skilene, Kico, Koris, Jover, etc) all humanized. Current chapters: /Scars/Familiar/Mistake/Rejection
1. Scars

_**I felt inspired after reading a few Hanahaki fics in other fandoms and decided to have some fun with my humanized version of the tpom crew. Mainly I just really love juxtaposition of beauty and tragedy or beauty and death, hence the title and thought that some of you might enjoy these stories too. **_

**_Scar_**

"You didn't have to step in like that," Hans panted as he shouldered Skipper's weight and lead the man through narrow streets to a well-hidden safe house. "I had everything under control."

"Yeah, that's why it looked like you were about to get gutted like a fish," Skipper hissed through his teeth as Hans shoved him up a flight of steps, further irritating the still bleeding gash in his side. He should have known that going after Hans would bite him in the ass in one way or another.

"When will you learn that looks can be deceiving?" Hans asked, irritated that Skipper had felt the need to intervene. "I swear one day your hero-complex is going to get you killed or more importantly get me killed."

"When will you learn to thank me for saving your ass?" Skipper asked leaning against the wall as Hans opened the door, wincing at the sensation of blood running down his side.

"Yes, thank you for blowing my cover and nearly getting gutted." Hans rolled his eyes his eyes and maneuvered Skipper in the direction of the small bed in the corner of the cramped room before taking a few minutes to secure the door. He was certain that no one had followed them, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Hans turned at the sound of the soft thump followed by several creaks that he assumed was Skipper hitting the mattress and winced. The springs were shot, and it was far from comfortable, he had even been tempted to go out and find a nice one-night stand, just so his back could get a break from that insufferable bed. It wasn't the most luxurious safe house CENTRAAL had lent him by a long shot, but it also wasn't the worst. Shaking away thoughts of 5 five-star hotels and down pillows Hans went to a closet and retrieved the first aid kit along with a suture kit.

He frowned as he looked at Skipper for the first time since their escape and saw that the dark wet stain was still spreading across the material of the man's shirt. _At least it's a slow bleed, _Hans thought as he stood and went to the kitchen area to find the first aid kit.

Skipper propped himself up on his elbows as Hans returned. The adrenaline from their mad-dash escape had started to wear-off and the effort to hold himself up was straining. He knew that he had more damage than the laceration across his abdomen, but that one was the most concerning now.

"You know," Hans started as took a pair of scissors and began to cut Skipper's shirt away. The drying blood acting as an adhesive between flesh and fabric, "I always thought that if someone was going to stab you it'd be me."

"Funny, because I thought you already stabbed me in the back when we were in Denmark," Skipper snapped and shifted uncomfortably as the scissors reached his chest.

"Hans, wait."

The plea caught Hans off guard and he paused curious, "since when did you become shy?"

"Just cut what you need off. You don't have to take my whole shirt." Skipper tried to move away from Hans before he could start cutting again, earning an eyeroll from the other man.

"Honestly, Skipper, it's nothing I haven't seen before. The shirt is ruined anyway. There's no need for you to make this so difficult." He had just snipped the collar when he noticed the thick line of raised tissue running down Skipper's sternum. Scars weren't unusual in their line of work, all active field agents had them from missions both successful and unsuccessful. However, that type of scar wasn't typical of being on the frontlines.

"Skipper…." Hans trailed off tracing the scar with his fingers now understanding why Skipper had been reluctant to be so exposed in front of him. Hanahaki was a cruel and intimate disease and to know that Skipper had loved someone so deeply and yet was not loved the same in return stung.

"Unrequited love is a bitch." Skipper said choosing to look at the water stains on the wall under the window. Any direction that wasn't Hans, although the man had fallen oddly silent and buried himself in the task of cleaning the wound on his abdomen.

"I'm sorry," Hans spoke softly as he rummaged through the first aid kit and set everything up he needed.

"For getting me stabbed? That guy must have got me worse than I thought."

Hans shook his head and grabbed a bottle of saline and a towel that he had thrown on the floor earlier that day. "That is all on you and your big mouth. No, I'm sorry that you had to have the surgery."

"Don't be," Skipper replied through clenched teeth as the cold saline hit the wound, "it was a long time ago."

"Still, it's a horrible thing to have to go through." Hans lied. He had never experienced Hanahaki disease, had no true understanding of what it felt like. It made him more than a little fascinated by the disease and how it worked, how even the strongest of people could succumb to it.

Once the blood was cleared away he could see that it was still bleeding, but slowly and it was clear that the knife hadn't gone as deep as he had initially thought. He pushed at the edges earning a hiss of pain from Skipper, while the gap was wide, almost two inches it looked like a straight forward stitch job. "Would you like the bad news or good news first?" Hans asked as he opened the suture kit and frowned.

"Is there ever any good news?"

"Fortunately, you're not dying and will just need a few stitches. Unfortunately, there is no lidocaine in the suture kit."

"Fuck me," Skipper wished he had Kowalski with him, his lieutenant was a far better field medic than Hans. Of course, even the gentlest of hands couldn't prevent the process from being painless without lidocaine.

"Maybe later and only if you're good." Hans winked, but even his joking tone sounded flat to his ears. His eyes once again fell on the scar running down Skipper's sternum. On one hand the scar was a sign of relief, a reminder that Hanahaki wasn't what it used and could be. Yet, it showed how close Skipper must have come to death. "Did you tell whoever it was how you felt before you went through with it?" Hans finally asked.

A bitter laugh escaped Skipper at the thought. Years ago, he had fallen for someone who was incapable of love although he hadn't realized that at first. Back then he'd been young, naïve, and painfully optimistic that he'd be enough to change that. He caught Hans' soft gaze and could feel his chest and throat tightening along with a phantom brush of petals against his tongue. Now he knew better and refused to let himself fall back into playing a game that nearly killed him. Finally, he answered with a bittersweet smile, "no, I would have been wasting my breath."

"How could you know that?" Hans asked wanting to know who could have made a man like Skipper fall so hard.

"They made it clear how they felt about me when they left me to take the fall."


	2. Familiar

_Julien is used to the taste of petals and blood, he'll spit blood and pick petals from his teeth one week and then be fine the next, it's practically rinse and repeat. Until he develops a crush on Clover and finds himself coughing up bouquets._

* * *

**Familiar**

Julien hated the look Maurice gave him as he took the steaming mug of herbal tea for the ever-persistent tickle in his throat.

"We both know this is nothing Momo," Julien remarked as he took a sip of the tea and thanked the Sky Spirits for the instant relief it gave him in clearing away the taste of blood that stuck to his tongue, "in another week or so it will pass."

"You said that two weeks ago, your Majesty." Maurice pointed out flatly. He was used to seeing his nephew come down with the love-sickness every few weeks, but it never lasted more than a week or two. "Perhaps it's time to consider that this isn't one of your typical crushes like you had on Ted or Willie. Especially given what happened this morning."

"You and Clover worry too much," Julien complained still irritated that he had been confined to his room for most of the day after a minor coughing fit.

"Julien," Maurice dropped the royal monikers hoping his nephew would understand how terrified he had been earlier. "I saw Rob pulling white chrysanthemum blossoms from your throat. And thank the Sky Spirits that Rob was even in the village getting supplies or you could have died. It isn't just petals anymore."

"I understand that," Julien rolled his eyes unphased by the fact that he could have died. Living in Madagascar dying was a daily risk and it'd be more impressive to list the occurrences where he hadn't even come close to a life-threatening situation. "But you forget that this is not the first time I fallen for someone this hard. The Sky Spirits have merely blessed me with a heart that not only finds love frequently, but also loves deeply. Just sometimes deeper than it should."

Maurice felt his expression soften at his nephew's words. Since taking the throne Julien had made many mistakes and errors in judgement. At first Maurice had looked at it as a lack of experience or maturity and to a certain extent that held true, but the motivation behind many of those decisions were out of love for the kingdom. He wished more of the kingdom saw it that way, instead of going after Julien any time the smallest thing went wrong. He shook his head and focused on the present once more. "It's as much of a blessing as it is a curse. I just wish you would take your health a little more seriously."

Then before Maurice could even begin to get into the fear of letting Uncle "King" Julien take back the crown and the how the kingdom would suffer terrified yelps sounded from outside of the Julien's room.

"Your Majesty, I came as soon as I heard what happened," Clover announced as she burst through the door in what had been dubbed her battle mode stance.

"Clo Clo!" Julien grinned and did his best to suppress the next bought of coughs he could feel building in his chest. It was clear she must have left in the middle of her training with Sage given that she wasn't in her usual guard uniform. "You didn't have to come although I am flattered." Julien was quick to add with a wink.

"Nonsense your Majesty, it is my duty to come to your aid no matter the time or place. Now whose face do I have to break?" Clover stood tall and cracked her knuckles, hoping that her sister had once again charmed Julien. Although she didn't exactly need a reason to start a fight with Crimson.

Julien shook his head and laughed, "there will be no breaking faces today. By the Sky Spirits blessings, I am already feeling better. Go back to Sage and continue your training."

Clover visibly brightened at Julien's suggestion, but she still hesitated and stepped closer to Julien's side. "While that is a generous offer, I wouldn't be fulling my duty of keeping you safe. Someone could take advantage of your-"

"Don't you dare say weak, a king is never weak," Julien warned even though there was no real malice behind it.

"-situation, then," Clover continued. "My point still stands, King Julien. It would be unwise to leave you unguarded until you are fully recovered." She wouldn't push further on the issue although it did concern her how worn the young king looked. He was hiding it well, but she had known him for some time and had learned long ago when his exuberant energy was being forced. His labored breathing also did nothing to assure that he was in perfect health. It was clear that he was suffering.

"Mo Mo was just overreacting…again," Julien waved off her unvoiced concerns. "There is no need for you to sit here with me over a minor coughing spell."

"I'd hardly call passing out a minor coughing spell." Clover had been horrified when XiXi had come announcing that the king had collapsed in the middle of the market place. Her first thought had been that the former king had succeeded in one of his various assassination plots. Then her second thought had been that she had failed, not her duties as the King's Head of Security, but Julien himself. One of the few people that embraced her abrasive nature, one of the few, if not the only person she could actually call a friend.

"This is not the first time I've had love-sickness. It will pass just as it has before," Julien assured her even though he wasn't certain that these feelings would pass as the others did. He had only progressed to full flowers once before and it had taken death to break the hold those feeling had over him. Still remembered when Clover had shown signs of the love-sickness and it had been clear that the flowers had been for Sage. Even if he did not know exactly the standing of their relationship it was hard to deny the happiness Clover had when she spent time with the nomad.

"You're Majesty?" Clover asked hesitantly.

"What are you still doing here? I told you I will be fine. Now go to Sage before I order you to."

"Thank you, Julien." Clover dropped her usual formalities and smiled at him before turning to Maurice. "If he so much as tries to put a toe on the floor send a messenger and I will be back to tie him to the bed."

Maurice held back a laugh as Clover and Julien both recognized the implications of what she had said and watched them flush. "Will do, but I believe I can handle my nephew for the day."

"Thanks Maurice. I'll be back before sundown." Clover gave Julien one last glare, "and I mean it, not one toe!"

Once Clover was gone, Julien began to cough, blood flecked white chrysanthemums and green clover leaves falling through his fingers to stain the blankets.


	3. Mistake

_Kowalski has been dealing with the disease for months, his crush on Doris slowly killing him until he sees petals fall from her lips and gathers the courage to confess. The flowers should have died after Doris reciprocated his feelings, but he seems to be getting worse._

* * *

**Mistake**

They had agreed to meet but neither of them had spoken yet and the silence was deafening to the point that the occasional harsh wet couching fits between the two of them were welcome. Kowalski's lips parted, but instead of 'hello' another bought of coughing tore through him. He doubled over, chest heaving as his lungs fought for air, until finally the battle was won, and blood covered flowers filled his hand, upon closer inspection, it looked like bits of heather and hydrangea.

"I suppose we should talk about that," Doris spoke quietly, opening her purse and passing several tissues over to Kowalski. "Clearly the last few weeks-"

"Were a mistake," Kowalski finished for her as he wrapped the bloody flowers in the tissues and wiped the blood off his hand.

Doris winced at the word. She had grown to have feelings for Kowalski over the last few months, not something she had dreamed happening when they started their friendship and to hear him refer to it as a mistake was painful. Almost as painful as the flowers that were currently growing in her lungs. "I wouldn't necessarily call them a mistake. More of a…" she spun the paper coffee cup around in her hands looking for the right words, "cautious experiment that did not have an agreeable outcome. Afterall, Hanahaki isn't an exact science and it has been documented in some cases that it takes several days for the flowers to fade after reciprocation."

Despite himself Kowalski found himself smiling. He hadn't been attracted to Doris by her blue eyes alone. She was a woman of science and that had spurred his small crush into something akin to love over the years they had gotten to know each other. It was sweet for her to phrase what had occurred between them a few short weeks ago as anything but a mistake, but they both knew on some level that it was exactly that when the morning after found them in her bed feeling like little more than strangers with flower-filled lungs. "It was still a mistake to let it go on as long as we did, after all if the flowers hadn't cleared up after the first few days, then we should have taken it as a sign that they weren't going to clear up."

"There's nothing wrong with a little optimism and I don't regret all the time we spent together." Doris reached across the small table and placed one of her hands over his. "The worst of this is that I regret not giving you a chance sooner and that I'm not the one for you. But I suppose my brother was right telling me that my timing has always been off."

"Maybe it's timing on both our parts. It just doesn't make any sense. You reciprocated my feelings and by all accounts then the flowers should be gone." Kowalski pulled his hand out from under Doris's eyeing the ball of bloody tissues with distain.

"Have you considered that it's not me you have these feelings for? Maybe you just wanted me to be the one the feelings were for," Doris suggested having considered that possibility when she started finding petals on her tongue three months into dating Kowalski. "Ask yourself, did you love me or just love the idea of me?"

The question was eerily similar to one that Private had posed to him some years ago when then they had been discussing the potential and ethics of the Luv-U-Lator. That conversation had devolved into what it meant to love someone versus loving the idea of someone.

After a moment Kowalski nodded, "that thought has occurred to me."

"I'm not going to hold that against you. You'd hardly be the first person to want to share their life with someone. Loneliness is a terrible thing after all, and I have to admit that I think that may be why I started to fall for you even though it seemed like you already had feelings for someone else."

"What? Why would I have feelings for someone else?"

Doris laughed at Kowalski's bewildered expression before returning to her previously somber demeanor. "I'm sorry for laughing, but I didn't think that you hadn't considered that as the reason for the petals. It just seems obvious now looking back on everything. You were never very open with me, always reluctant to talk about your past or things that were bothering you. Not to mention the lack of physical intimacy."

Kowalski felt his face heat in embarrassment, "Doris, I told you that much like some of the greatest minds in history I found that I fall on the asexual side of the spectrum of sexuality."

"That wasn't exactly the physical intimacy I was referring to. It was that the smaller things like just holding my hand or cuddling on the couch," Doris held up her hand before Kowalski could even begin to defend himself. "I don't need the lecture on the finer points of intricacies of asexuality. It wasn't the fact that it hard for you to be comfortable having any level of intimacy with me, it was that even when you said you were comfortable, which I did believe at least to an extent, it always felt like you were just going through the motions."

"I didn't realize that you felt that way during our time together."

"It's not that I didn't enjoy our time together. Anyone would be lucky to have you it just became clear to me that I wasn't who you wanted to be with. You wanted to be with someone. It just wasn't me."

"I see," Kowalski murmured as he thought back to the earlier days of their relationship. He had always been doubtful about his actions, constantly second-guessing himself over what to do or what to say. Many times, he had to stop himself from asking if they were doing something because it was something that couples were supposed to do- it was a normal thing to fall in love, get married, and have a few kids. It's what you're supposed to do.

"I'm sorry, but I need to go. I have to propose a grant for a new study- it's whole thing. Anyway, it won't look good if I'm late." Doris explained as she slipped her purse back over her shoulder. She reached across the table and gave Kowalski's hand a gentle squeeze, "I really do hope you find who it is you're looking for."

Kowalski smiled at her and nodded, this throat tight as he fought the urge to start coughing again. As he watched her walked away, he wished he could find to the strength to argue: _it wasn't a mistake, it was supposed to be you._


	4. Rejection

**Yeah, I can't even follow my original intentions of these prompts and ended up barely brushing on the idea of rejection, but it's there. Also some of these prompts will eventually come together as part of much larger story so you may notice things from other chapters, for example Mistake is actually set after Rejection. **

**Finally, any flowers mentioned do hold significance, I used the Victorian flower meanings so for example in the last chapter heather represents admiration, beauty and good luck, and it can also be associated with solitude and protection. While hydrangeas symbolize heartfelt emotions and can be used to express gratitude for being understood.**

_Summary: Rico has been suffering from Hanahaki for weeks without anyone knowing, it's easy to hide given the damage to his voice. He'd rather die with lungs in his flowers than face the inevitable rejection he faces from Kowalski._

* * *

**Rejection**

Rico watched the petals wash down the drain with disinterest as he caught his breath, clutching the counter for support. It felt like he still had something his throat and he wondered if he had progressed to the next stage of Hanahaki. He had been coughing petals for weeks and had found himself for what may have been the first time, thankful for the damage to his throat. It had made it easier to hide that he had the disease at all.

Of course, if the disease was progressing it would prove a challenge to keep it from his team. The petals would turn to flowers as the roots grew deeper into his lungs, the flowers would begin to grown into his throat as the space in his lungs diminished, and the final step in which the roots would begin to grow through his lungs as they pushed for more space. It was easy to wash petals down the drain, but whole flower heads couldn't always be gotten rid of so easily. Then he had to worry about his physical performance, once enough flowers grew even walking would be enough to wind him. Although that would still be weeks if not months away depending on how careful he was to distance himself from the team.

Rico ran a hand over his face as he left the bathroom thinking about his next move. Despite an established reputation of being quiet long before the accident that nearly stole his voice, there was a certain degree of quiet that would draw the attention and concern of Private and Kowalski as well as the paranoia of Skipper. There was no way he was going to endure another one of Skipper's awkward attempts to lead a team therapy session. Their leader was good at many things, but hearing his attempts to get them to open up and be more honest with each other was downright painful.

He recalled the last time he had a close brush with death which had been at the fangs of one of Savio's cobra hybrids and shuddered at the memory of what misery it had been with his team pushing for some solution, some miracle cure, all while Private sobbed poetry. But Hanahaki wasn't a snake bite and he knew that they wouldn't react well to the fact that he didn't want to survive if the disease continued to progress as he suspected it would.

He pulled his phone out, selected the most recent contact under his messages, and typed a quick message to the only person who knew that he had Hanahaki.

**_i think its getting worse_**

**_do they know?_**

**_ no_**

**_r u going to tell them?_**

And a second later it was followed by:

**_r u going to tell him?_**

Rico stared at the question for a moment and considered his response. He and Julien hadn't spoken at length about the disease progressing, or who it was that Rico had started pine for. It had been an awkward revelation about their relationship and they had only discussed and agreed that no one was at fault for him developing Hanahaki while they were still together. Yet, Rico had suspected that Julien had known that Kowalski had been the one to steal his heart away from the young crown-prince. Julien was astoundingly observant and insightful; it was one of the many things that had drawn him in. Well that and that nothing from Rico's ever resulted in an expression of pity only awe and admiration.

Finally Rico replied:

**_can I come over?_**

**_only if I can come too ;)_**

**_sorry, yes_**

**_its best we talk about this in person anyway_**

** I'll be over in a bit.**

Rico put his phone in his pocket and wondered how he would even begin to explain why he was already set on dying. He could already imagine Julien's arguments- _you've already survived so much. You could have so much more to live for, think of your team, the bros, me. Think about him. Would you really like to die without knowing what could have been? _

All to which he would argue that he was fortunate enough to have found Miguel and then Reina, but that he would not risk a third. Because when it came to petals every person who he had fallen for had been taken away from him and that was only if they had fallen for him in return.

And Julien would roll his eyes and then pout, _what about me? Did you not fall for me? And I for you?_

But he would reply that Julien had been the exception each other. They had fallen so quickly and had been so aware of one-another's feelings that neither of them had developed petals; a rare but not entirely unheard of occurrence.

"Rico?" Kowalski asked gently and frowned when the man in question startled and blinked owlishly at him. "Are you okay? You've been standing there for the last few minutes."

Rico ran a hand over his face and ignored the way is chest seemed to tighten, "yeah. M' just tired." That wasn't entirely untrue given that he didn't sleep most nights.

Kowalski nodded and sighed. "I feel it. I haven't been sleeping well since Doris developed Hanahaki. She was supposed to be the one; everything about our relationship was perfect and she fell in love with someone else."

The comment surprisingly stung even if it hadn't been directed at him or his relationship with Julien. Rico's phone chimed and he didn't even need to retrieve it to know that it was Julien wondering where he was at even though it took at least 15 minutes to walk to The Groove.

Kowalski gave Rico a knowing look. "I assume that would be Julien?"

"Yeah," Rico spoke fighting against the tickle in his throat.

"I suppose I won't keep you any longer from attending to His Majesty. I need to get ready to go meet up with Doris anyway." Kowalski sighed not looking forward to the discussion that awaited him.

Rico reached out and put a hand on Kowalski's shoulder giving him a quick reassuring squeeze adding in a low voice, "it'll be okay." It had been difficult watching the genius struggle on with Hanahaki the last few years. Of course for Kowalski the disease hadn't shown any signs of progressing until recently, when he had started his relationship with Doris to be exact.

Kowalski's expression softened and he found himself looking at Rico in a mix of awe and jealousy. He would never quite understand how things always seemed to work out in his teammate's favor despite all the odds. "You're very fortunate Rico, not just surviving all that you've been through, but that you and Julien found each other. I know I may have had my doubts about your relationship and haven't always been the most supportive, but Julien's been good for you and you've been good for him. I'm happy for you."

It felt like all the air had been forced out of his lungs and Rico struggled to ignore the tickle in his throat. For a moment he considered coming clean, admitting that he and Julien were no longer together, that he had fallen in love with someone else.

This time it was Kowalski's phone that chimed and the genius frowned as he checked the message. "Doris just left so I need to get going; best to get this over with I suppose. Thanks for listening Rico; I'm fortunate to have you as a friend." Kowalski mused and found he was missing the days before Rico was dating Julien. It was nice to have someone who would just let him rant or talk through things without interrupting or offering advice. He turned to leave but paused to add, "And be sure to tell Julien that you do need to get _some_ sleep tonight."

Rico laughed at the comment. He always loved whenever Kowalski got a playful tone in his voice, blue eyes alight with mischief. Yet, as soon as Kowalski was out of sight Rico doubled over his laughter turning into harsh coughs that he tried to stifle with his hands. He winced feeling the warm petals stick to his hands and when he stopped he didn't need a genius to tell him that the petals were red with blood. Any thoughts of confessing fled his mind as he replayed the conversation with Kowalski over in his mind. He would stay with his original plan of hiding it from the team and with Julien's help he might even be able to pull it off. His team wouldn't know he let Hanahaki consume him until he was past the point of recovery; where no last minute confessions would stop the flowers and surgery would no longer be an option to separate the flowers from his lungs. That would be easier than the harsh sting of rejection and far easier than the enviable fallout that would cost him another person cared about.


	5. Firsts

**So uh, this one has an unusual pairing that I'm honestly not sure how many will react to since I don't think I've ever seen anything (fics, arts, posts, etc) for it. However, it is one-sided and I've been wanting to play around with Private's character for a while and what better time to explore his character than with an AU of my Park Avenue AU. **

Flower notes: pink roses represent gentleness, grace, gladness, joy, sweetness, and admiration. Typically pale pink ones are used to show love in its beginning stages, where you want to show that you have feelings for someone, but its a tad too early for red roses.

* * *

Firsts

Private was floored as he went to set another donation box in the back of Archie's pick-up and saw that it was nearly full. It had only been a few hours since they had started collecting things to donate and not many of their neighbors had given any indication that they would be participating. He could understand the initial bad taste that Archie had left in their mouths after having stolen from them, but it seemed unlikely that they could remain cold towards someone who has stealing to provide for those who couldn't provide for themselves.

Even Skipper had been moved to near tears when Archie told them how he had grown up on the streets near-homeless with absent parents. Archie told them about the months where he had no shoes, no food, and would have most likely died if it wasn't for a soft-hearted librarian. That was also how he had learned of Robin Hood and made the decision that if he survived to adulthood then he would become the hero that he didn't have.

Understandably, Private had broken down crying and worked to organize a community event so Archie could give to the less fortunate through legal means. And clearly Archie's story had moved the block more than he expected if the truck was nearly full and everyone was still bringing boxes of things to donate.

"I'm actually impressed Private." Skipper commented as he loaded a box from Marlene into the back of the truck. "Who would have thought that you knowing French would have lead to an amazing act of charity. Of course, I'd be more impressed if Robin Hood did more than flapped his lips while the rest of us are working."

Private resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Skipper's comment. "Archie's already done more than his fair share by setting up all the appointments to drop off the donations himself. He's volunteering his time and using his truck all while not expecting anything in return."

"Easy there Private, I was just saying that we're not as efficient when more people are talking than moving. He's not the only cog in the machine slowing things down." Skipper glanced over to where Julien was lounging on a chair that Burt had wanted to donate before turning back to the youngest member of the team who was looking at where Archie was talking to Bada and Bing. To say it had been interesting to watch Private interact with Archie would be an understatement. He had never seen Private become so enthralled with someone before. "If I didn't know you better, I'd say it sounds like you may have a bit of a crush going on."

Private flushed at the accusation and snapped a horrified, "Skipper!" He didn't get crushes. He didn't fall in love. He was, as far as he was concerned aromatic. He had never once experienced Hanahaki and while that itself was somewhat rare there were enough documented cases that most people accepted that he just didn't fall in love at least romantically.

"That's why I said if I didn't know you better," Skipper clarified. "Although I do believe you may have a little case of hero worship."

"It's hard to not admire someone so selfless and invested in charity. And after all, he's been through? To not turn out jaded and think the absolute worst of people? He's practically—"

"A modern-day Robin Hood. You've made the comparison plenty of times." Skipper didn't want to point out that Private's admiration for Archie could just as easily be admiration for Rico who had literally grown up in the streets with a drug cartel for a family and had completely changed his life around. He watched in amusement as Archie caught Private staring and winked. "Looks like he's coming your way now Maid Marian."

Private turned helplessly to Skipper as Archie ended his conversation, but his commanding officer was already on his way to assist Rico and Burt with separating Julien from the chair he claimed for his throne. He cursed Skipper quietly for leaving him alone with Archie and furthermore insinuating that he had developed a crush on him.

"Mon cher, this is incredible!" Archie called out as he threw an arm around Private's shoulders. "How you convinced so many to come out and donate so much I will never understand."

Private shook his head not able to take credit for what Archie had done. "That part is all, you Archie. You inspired everyone with your story; I just organized the event."

"And convinced your boss that I was not a criminal. That is something I will be eternally grateful for and I fully intend to show you my gratitude for all that I have done because words are not enough." Archie spun Private around, so they were facing each other.

Private tried his best to ignore the odd fluttering sensation in his stomach. It was happening more frequently since he had begun spending time with Archie. "You changing your ways is more than enough."

"Non, I must." Archie leaned forward and took Private's hand. "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

Private could feel his throat tighten as Archie grew closer, his other hand coming up to caress the side of his face, their lips almost brushing. It would have been nothing to lean forward and close the gap between them, but just a soon has Archie had pulled him close he was stepping away.

"You're a fan of The Bard, yes? I heard you reciting Shakespeare's sonnets the other day. They're performing Romeo and Juliet tomorrow night in the park. I was Romeo's understudy. How would you like an exclusive tour of behind the scenes?" Archie offered with a board grin his dark brown eyes sparkling.

"Archie, I-" Private paused feeling a tickle in his throat and coughed hoping to clear it. "Sorry, my allergies must be acting up. But yes, I'd love to."

"Excellent, it's a date then. I'll pick you up at 7'o clock. But for now, I must bid you adieu, I believe Fred is trying to get my attention."

Private offered a smile and small nod to Archie before the man went running off across the street. He didn't trust himself to speak, the tickle in his throat seemed more persistent than before. Within seconds Private found himself coughing into his elbow, chest uncomfortably tight. When he caught his breath, he could feel something stuck to the back of his teeth and with a shaking hand, he pulled a single pale pink rose petal from his mouth.


	6. Comfort

_6 Comfort- Julien knows Rico doesn't love him and he doesn't love Rico, at least not like they used to, but it doesn't stop him from rubbing Rico's back and bringing him tea with honey after a particularly rough bought of coughing, at the rate and the number of flowers that Rico's bringing up he could use the comfort. _

**Flower notes:** **Purple Hyacinth** flower is also a symbol of sorrow and sometimes forgiveness.

**Violets** symbolize innocence, modesty and true, everlasting love.

**Carnations red = **Deep Love and Admiration **Yellow = **Disappointment or Rejection **Striped=** Rejection or Regret

**Cyclamen** is a fun one because while it can symbolize tenderness, sincerity and lasting feelings the Victorians believed it to mean resignation, a final farewell. It is also highly poisonous.

* * *

Julien eyed the steaming cup of tea doubtfully and added more honey while whispering a prayer to the Sky Spirits. Even though generations of spiritual advisors throughout Madagascar had believed it to be the cure for the lovesickness Julien knew it was merely a temporary balm to soothe a raw throat.

After all, he had experienced the pain of the disease off and on for years, falling quickly in and out of love.

As he stirred the tea and watched the honey dissolve, he couldn't help but muse that it felt more unusual for him to have not had a case in the last few years. Maurice told him it was because he was older and had learned to not give his whole heart away. It sounded silly given that the first girl he had met after Clover, he had given his heart to the second, he saw her. Thinking about it, Sonia was probably the last time he had Hanahaki. Perhaps his uncle was referring to Rico, but he and Rico had both fallen fast and hard for each other. A bought of coughing from the next room shook him from his thoughts and he hurried to finish making the tea.

The coughing stopped in the few minutes it took him to get to the living room without spilling the hot tea and he silently cursed himself for wanting the largest apartment possible and the sight that awaited him broke his heart. Without further hesitation, Julien sat down next to where Rico was doubled over on the couch catching his breath and set the mug on the table noting the spray of red across the carpet and table.

"Here," Julien gently urged Rico to sit back and took the bloody flower heads from Rico's shaking hands, dropping them on the table and before grabbing the mug and pressing it into those bloodied hands. "I added extra honey, which I know isn't your favorite, but it will help."

As Rico took a drink, Julien looked at the pile of flowers on the table eyeing the mangled pile of purple hyacinth, violets, and a variety of carnations with sympathy. He understood all too well the pain of being in love with your best friend. Then his stomach dropped as he spotted a new flower among the bloody mess. Julien reached out and picked the flower out of the pile praying to the Sky Spirits that he was wrong in what he was seeing as he wiped some of the blood away.

Red gave way to white and Julien's heart broke. Cyclamen meant Rico would have a few weeks at best. He stared at the flower alarmed by how quickly the disease progressed in the last month. Or maybe it wasn't.

"Sorry," Rico mumbled guilt heavy in his stomach as he took the flower out of Julien's hand and threw it back onto the table with the others. Of course, Julien didn't have to say anything for Rico to know that he had put the pieces together and knew exactly what the flower meant. It was practically a white flag and without having to say anything to Julien the other man knew that something had broken inside him and he had given up on any scrap of hope that his feelings were returned.

"Don't apologize, because I'll cry and it'll ruin my make-up," Julien halfheartedly ordered and joked blinking away the tears that had formed in his eyes. His attempt to lighten the mood earned a small laugh from Rico who also looked to be on her verge of tears. Although it was hard to tell if it was from the current emotional atmosphere or from the excruciating pain that he had to be in. At this point, the roots would be starting to push outside of his lungs to reach into other organs. Julien gently tugged at Rico until the larger man was leaning against him. Despite their size difference Rico always enjoyed being the "little spoon" in any cuddling position especially one that allowed Julien to card his fingers through his hair, just as he was at that moment.

They sat in near silence for several minutes looking at the flowers on the table as if still processing what had occurred. Although they both knew that this point had been coming.

Finally, Julien spoke first, "Have your feelings on getting the surgery changed?" _Do you still want to die?_

Rico leaned further into Julien's touch before answering with a firm, "no." _Yes._

"Then you should plan on telling them," Julien started and felt Rico jerk in his loose grip. "I didn't say him, because if you really think there is no chance of him returning your feelings or if you believe that he has found happiness with someone else," Julien found himself toying with the clover charm Rico had made him after they had come to a mutual agreement to stay friends, "then I support your decision to not say anything to him."

"Thank you," Rico whispered softly; his breathing strained.

"But you still need to tell your team or family, really, and your friends. They love you deserve to at least have the closure of knowing why you want this." _Tell them why you are so determined to die. _

In truth, Julien wanted to fight to convince Rico to get the surgery months ago once it became clear that the feelings between them had shifted and the Hanahaki was getting worse. But Julien understood what it was like to fall in love, suffer for weeks, for months in agony and then finally have that love returned only for it to be cruelly ripped away. And while Julien had always been able to bounce back and had relationships run their natural courses, that was far from the case for Rico. As the silence stretched on, he was prepared for the inevitable protest and argument. Rico talked like he was intending to crawl off and die like an animal and leave everyone wondering what happened to him.

Rico sat up suddenly and began to cough again this time with such violence that he started to choke and gag as flowers forced themselves from his lungs and into his throat. For a moment he thought he was going to blackout as his body was starved of oxygen, Julien's hand rubbing circles on his back a small comfort as he fought to breathe.


End file.
